"…Nghh." Risa stirred, a grunt slipping out as her body tensed. Her eyes twitched half-open before a sharp hiss escaped her lips.
She was lying on the infirmary bed, Isaac sitting beside her—he had carried her there after all the commotion. Noticing her stir, Isaac leaned closer.
"How're you feeling?" he asked with a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
Risa's gaze found that smile, and something inside her twisted. A faint laugh slipped past her lips—dry, almost mocking. "Haha… feels good, doesn't it? Saving me. Must've been real satisfying, feeding your ego like that."
Isaac's smile faltered, caught off guard. But she pressed on.
"Hero this, hero that—you just love hearing yourself talk, don't you?" Her eyes hardened. "Always smiling, like the world's perfect for you. Like you've never had to worry about anything."
"Think you're way above everyone else don't you." Her chuckle turned brittle, her voice rising with scorn. "I will never like you. There's nothing you could ever do to change that."
She locked onto his calm expression. It made her grind her teeth. His lips twitched as if to speak, but before he could, she cut him off, her voice cracking into venom. "Don't. Try talking to me again, and I'll make sure you regret it. I don't want you near me. Ever again."
Her body trembled, breath shaky, but she forced the last words out through clenched teeth. "And don't think for a second I'd thank you for what you've done."
His face remained gentle, showing no sign of bitterness or resentment. It was as if he had convinced himself he had to save Risa. Risa forced herself up from the bed, her body aching all over. Isaac could see she was enduring a great deal of pain just to move, but he left her unprovoked, respecting her wishes.
She stood by the doorway, and before she left, she glanced back at Isaac once more. Her gaze was so cold it could have shaken the strongest of wills-but Isaac's expression remained unchanged. With a hiss of rage, she stormed out, leaving only silence behind.
Issac returned to class—but before taking a seat he scanned the classroom. "Risa's not here."
"Mr. Fulden! Class started half an hour ago," the teacher nagged.
"Sorry Mrs. Harvey. The milk was way more aggressive than I thought it'd be," he replied, chuckling slightly.
Her eyes narrowed, and the corners of her mouth twitched downward, making it clear she was not amused.
She sighed, "stay back after school. You need to get the notes from earlier."
The class dragged on for another thirty minutes, followed by the last period of the day. By the time dismissal came, Isaac still hadn't escaped Mrs. Harvey's order.
Click. The classroom door closes—leaving Isaac and Mrs Harvey in the hallway.
"Hope this teaches you to get to class on time from here on out," Mrs. Harvey teases.
"I finished taking the notes twenty minutes ago though," Isaac replied, exhausted.
"Be safe now," Mrs Harvey sees him off.
Issac rushed towards the exit, but right before he reached, he stopped abruptly. His exasperated expression stared down the downpour outside.
"Oh right—it's raining," he said, irritated. His expression softens as his thoughts shift. "Wonder if Risa reached home already?"
"Does this rain not plan on ending?" Risa expresses, holding her bent up umbrella.
She was taking shelter under the bus stop a couple blocks down the street from the school. Her wet brownish-purple hair—just barely past her jaws—clung to her face. Her bare feet on the pavement—to prevent her shoes from getting soaked. She stood there, waiting for the rain to settle. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Thirty minutes. Two hours passed before she could finally head home.
Before long, she was already outside her house. She went to open the door but—BAM!
A woman in skimpy clothing stormed out, mascara streaked, lipstick smeared like war paint. Her hair was a tangled mess, one heel missing, the other clacking hard against the pavement. A half-empty bottle swung wildly in her hand as her top slipped off one shoulder.
"YOU'RE A THOROUGH PIECE OF SHIT!" She looked back and yelled—leaving the front door wide open.
Without much thought, Risa simply went inside and closed the door behind her. Her uncle slouched on the couch, belly spilling out of a stained tank top. A cigarette dangled from his lips; ash scattered on the floor as well as food containers and utensils. His bloodshot eyes flicked lazily toward Risa.
"Yer... awful late... t'day huh... Hanna?" he drawled, smoke leaking out with every word.
"That's not my name," Risa snapped back.
Without wasting time, she headed past him, but he grabbed her arm.
"Ugh," she grunted.
She struggled but couldn't pull away. He looked her in the face, but she instantly turned away.
His eyes widened—mesmerised, "you're a spitting image of your mother." His breath weakened as he forced his hands inside his trousers.
A great deal of fear and panic overcame Risa. Her chest tightened, stomach lurching. Cold sweat ran down her spine as her hands trembled and legs threatened to buckle. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong.
Panic clawed at her throat, choking her. Every instinct screaming at her to run. Her pulse thundered in her temples as her mind scrambled in chaotic bursts. The walls seemed to close in. Terror gripped her like iron, leaving her frozen yet desperate to escape.
Her uncle continued, "She… she agreed to offer herself to me."
His expression changed drastically—his veins all clearly visible.
"THAT MAN! WHY DID HE HAVE TO RUIN IT ALL," He yelled enraged.
Risa flinched, she tried tugging her arm, but he held it firmly. The area had become swollen and painful, so she stopped fidgeting to relieve the pain.
"You saw that prostitute earlier, right?"
"Hanna had no qualms sleeping with someone other than me—she even had his child—you, but in the end, I'm still saving myself for her," he looked up at Risa, her eyes filled with tears.
All Risa could do was say, "No… no… no…," repeatedly in her mind.
Her uncle spoke again, "For the longest time I couldn't see anyone but him, whenever I looked at you. I TRIED CALLED YOU BY HER NAME, BUT HE WAS STILL THERE. But, as if God himself had heard my cries, He returned to me what was rightfully mine."
"Hanna, to think you would've returned to me, in the flesh no less." A nasty grin sprawled across his face.
"Hanna…" he said softly. "Let's make love… the way we should have all those years ago."
He pulled his other arm from his trousers; it was completely drenched. Seeing this—Risa got desperate. Her tears stopped flowing and she began pulling away. Frantically and harder than ever before. It was as if the unbearable pain around her wrist was nothing but an illusion. She pulled and pulled until she slipped from his grasp.
The incredible force sent her flying back. She hit the wall and injured her shoulder. Despite this she ignored the pain—her sights set only on escaping this situation. She bolted towards the doorway and ran away as fast as she could. Her uncle tried going after her but fell on his face as his trousers were still down.
Before long Risa found herself in the town's playground. She stopped to process everything that happened just now. She began grunting in pain from her injuries since the adrenaline has started to subside.
Drip. Drip. It had started raining—but Risa was in such a state she didn't even notice. She stood there soaked—in a state of trance.
After some time, she started wandering around the park. Still—it was as if she was moving subconsciously. Eventually she came across a glass shard. Her breath hitched, her trembling gaze fixed on the broken edge as though it was calling to her.